Innocence
by operaghost11235
Summary: Erik was thrown into despair after Christine went away with the viscount. It had been ten years since that happened, and Erik's misery grew worse and worse. Then, one day, Christine comes back to him. But being the most wanted criminal all over France, authorities were able to find his weakness and make him choose between his life and the life of Christine. First Fanfic ever.
1. Chapter 1: Old Friends

The Phantom of the Opera: INNOCENCE

**So this is actually the first Fan fiction I made, since I usually write stories and books. I'm really sorry for the stupid title. I didn't have enough time to think. **

**I apologize for my bad originality also. I got some of the story from LND, but everything else that wasn't there was pretty much my work. I'm a beginner and I'm new to the Fanfic world, so apologies in advance.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone, but it would have been awesome if I could. **

**Chapter 1: Old Friends**

Erik lay on his bed, wide awake even in the dead of night. He hasn't slept in a week because all he could think about was Christine, _his _Christine. It's been ten years. Ten years since the Opera Populaire burnt down. Ten years since Christine saw the truth behind the mask. Ten years ever since Raoul , the viscount, won her from him. Ten years since he heard her heavenly voice. He longed for her ever since, but Raoul made his move. He already _married _Christine, so Erik lost his last chance. How he wanted Christine to sing for him again, to hear the voice he spent years shaping.

A knock on his bedroom door interrupted his thoughts. The door opened. Standing in the doorway was a man who had olive skin, dark green eyes and dressed in Persian robes.

Erik groaned. "Nadir, I don't want another talk. I'm in a really bad mood."

"Erik, you're always in a bad mood." The Persian replied. "And this is not about that anymore. Someone's waiting to talk with you downstairs."

Erik faced his friend straight in the eye. He gestured to his deformity in the right side of his face. "Who would want to talk to _this_? I'm a monster."

"She came to help you." Nadir said. "You know her."

At that sentence, Erik jolted up. "_Her_?"

Nadir didn't reply and simply walked down the stairs. In haste to see whoever wants to talk to him, Erik followed the Persian.

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When Erik reached down the stairs, the person was sitting on one of the dinner table chairs. She had a dingy back dress, gray bonnet, honey blond hair and that stern expression on her face. Erik knew exactly who she was.

"Mme. Giry?" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

She stood up. "Erik, I came to talk to you."

Erik made a wry face. "This is about Christine, isn't it? It's always about Christine."

"Some of it," Mme. Giry said gloomily. Erik sat down on a chair for he could no longer sit up. "I heard you were here in one of Nadir's properties here in Paris and I came to see you." Giry continued.

A knock on the door interrupted her. The door opened and Erik saw a young ballet girl in a white shirt, brown pants and black boots, long honey blond hair and some kind of bag in her hand.

"Meg? Meg Giry?" Erik exclaimed.

"Monsieur," Meg said to the man. "We are about to depart."

Erik faced Mme. Giry. "Antoinette, explain what your daughter is saying. Depart to what?"

Mme. Giry sighed as she explained. "Erik, it's been ten years ever since your mischievous (or deadly) crimes back in the Opera. Police guards have been patrolling all over Paris ever since. You need to go from here. My daughter and I know where a safe place where you can stay in: the Opera Populaire."

"The Opera Populaire?" Erik echoed. "Last time I heard of the place, it was a pile of ashes and burnt opportunities. Why would I even _stay _there?"

"Erik," Mme. Giry explained again. "Police are done investigating there. No one goes there anymore. Why, you can even stay at your underground lair there."

"It might seem like a nice strategy," Erik said skeptically. "But it's very risky. How will I get there? Guards are prowling around the streets of Paris, and I'm practically the most wanted criminal now."

"That's why Meg and I," Mme. Giry gestured to her and her daughter, "have formulated a plan to get you out and to the Opera again."

"Well," Erik said dusting off his shirt. "It can't hurt to try."


	2. Chapter 2: Back to the Opera

**Chapter 2: Back to the Opera**

**Hey guys! I'll be doing this now, updating once a week. I only posted this early because I was bored during the weekend, but then, after this, I'll be posting this once a week. After reading, please review! **

**Disclaimer: Do I look like a person who will own all of POTO? **

Mme. Giry and Meg formulated a smart strategy. They would dress Erik up as an innocent civilian and if they were caught by police, introduce him as Mme. Giry's brother. In this way, they would reach the Opera safely to avoid suspicion.

Meg put a black wide-brimmed hat on Erik so the shadows will cover his deformity. The wrapped a black cape around him so it would cover the luggage he was bringing. Mme. Giry and Meg would stay close to him so they would cover him.

Erik had told Nadir that he would send him a note as soon as he got to his lair and then bid goodbye to his friend. They set out on the cold night road.

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The plan was working. They were almost at the Opera when, down on their luck, two police spotted them. They ran to Mme. Giry. Meg covered Erik so he wouldn't be spotted by the guards.

"Madame," one of the police them said to Mme. Giry. "What are you doing now at curfew?"

"I was just on my way home," Mme. Giry said as she gestured to her daughter and Erik, "with my daughter and brother."

The guard cocked an eyebrow at her legitimate excuse. "Yes, of course, Madame, but who got out in the first place? Or whose idea was it to go out?"

"I did, Monsieur, but-"

"That's all we need to hear." The police said as he brought out his chain cuffs and put them on Mme. Giry.

They started to drag her to the prison. Mme. Giry was poisoned by nervousness, for the guards might spot Erik. "Run!" she yelled to Erik and Meg. "Run for the Opera!"

The other police guard suddenly knew who her "brother" was. Meg yelled: "Mother! Mother!" repeatedly and tried to run and rescue her, but Erik clasped the cape on his neck and put his hand on Meg's shoulder as they ran as fast as they could to the Opera. The guard ran after them, his sword unsheathed. Erik knew that he was coming after them, so he also unsheathed his sword and fought with the guard.

The battle went either way, and the guard managed to leave a long bloody gash on Erik's left arm. Despite the injury, Erik was able to stab the man in the torso and cut off his neck. Meanwhile, Meg was able to open the large doors of the Opera house despite its ash-coated hinges and planks of burnt wood.

"Erik!" she yelled, and he ran to the door. They looked back at Mme. Giry's sad eyes as she entered the prison. Erik closed the Opera doors, feeling very guilty that he wasn't able to save her.

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Erik used the charred wood debris to block the Opera house door so the guards can't open it. After that was done, he felt a sharp pain in his arm. He clutched it tight, and then he realized that he was wounded by a sword. He looked at his hand, and there was bright red blood.

Meg saw he was in pain and took a piece of satin from her dress to bind the wound; in fact, she was the one who bound it.

After that, she started sobbing. "Mother…" she whispered.

"Meg," Erik said, feeling very guilty. "I'm really sorry I wasn't able to save her. I'm sorry I-"

"Sorry doesn't make it better, Opera Ghost!" Meg yelled facing him, eye-to-eye. "Even saying sorry to your Christine doesn't make amends in the past!"

That struck Erik. She was right. Even saying sorry to Christine, even if she was standing right in front of him, doesn't take back all his wrongdoings: forcing her into marriage, burning the Opera house to ash, almost killing her one true love, it was terrible. He didn't even know how to respond to that.

"Meg," Erik said awkwardly. "I'll avenge your mother. I'll go to rescue her. Tomorrow at the latest."

Meg sighed and wiped away her tears. "Fine. Now let's go to your lair."

She started walking towards the stage, but then an important detail struck her. "Wait, where _is_ your lair?"

Erik took of his hat and set it on the ground. He smiled slyly. "Do you know where Christine's dressing room is?"


	3. Chapter 3: Tracing Time

**Chapter 3: Tracing Time**

**I know I said I would post once a week, but I was kinda impatient. I had tons of things to do over the weekend, so I figured out I would just post it right away so it would save me the trouble. And besides, I was bored. Next time, I PROMISE, I'll post it next week. Please read and review. ;)**

**Disclaimer: If I say "I don't own anything", it means that "I don't own anything". **

Meg and Erik walked silently though the damaged theater.

The stage was completely burnt. The wood was cracked and splintered and the footlights that burned out toppled everywhere. The boxes that were, before, fashioned in pure Victorian elegance, were broken and dusty. The gilded statues that hung beside the boxes were rusting with age. The seats were falling and some of the boxes were even hanging from the walls. The audience chairs that were once velvety red were coated and ash and dust, and some were even eaten by fire. In the middle of the ruins lay a large glass chandelier covered in cobwebs, dust and ash. The area around it was full of its shattered remains.

Erik walked over to the chandelier and run his hands through the broken glass. The memories came back to him. The chandelier plummeting down into the audience, the Opera house on fire, it became a nightmare. Christine even thought of his deed as a nightmare.

"Monsieur," cried the voice of Meg onstage. "Monsieur, we have to go."

Erik ran over to the stage and let Meg lead the way through the backstage of the Opera.

Wooden beams were broken and burnt charred Tattered and dusty costumes hung on a rack somewhere the duo passed through. Erik couldn't help wondering that if Christine saw this place again like this, her home, destroyed and in ruins, what will she think of Erik?

Meg stopped at a door and opened it. The dressing room was like a burnt dream.

The walls were dingy grey with ash dust. The flowers that once were awarded to an amazing soprano were either burnt or wilted. Charred wood sat everywhere in the room, making it an eyesore. Wooden debris were scattered everywhere making it hard to walk.

Meg wandered around the room, pushing the debris of wood as she did. "Can you actually believe Christine was here ten years ago?"

At the mention of her name, Erik slunk in sorrow. "Yes…"

"Monsieur," she said to Erik. "Look at this."

There was a large pile of wood, paintings and clothes, and other burnt items piled on one wall of the room. It looked like a mess.

"Wait," Erik muttered. "I know this wall…" Then it hit him. "Meg, help me remove the debris."

Together, they dug through the burnt items until the debris gave way to a large mirror with gilded lining. To Erik's and Meg's amazement, it looked like it was completely untouched by the theater fire.

Erik stepped into the mirror, ignoring the effect of the glass and pushing through it. He was on the other side of the mirror, which emptied out into a long, candle-lit hallway. He suddenly remembered that this was the path Christine and he took going through the catacombs. She was singing, and pained him thinking of it.

"Monsieur," Meg said on the other side of the mirror. "Are you alright? Is it possible for me to go through?"

Erik nodded and she stepped through the mirror into the dark hallway. Erik picked up a torch from the wall and let the way through the catacombs. Erik's torch cast eerie shadows on the wall. Erik walked though the hall fearlessly while poor Meg was as frightened as ever.

"Monsieur," Meg said curiously. "If I may, what was your history with Christine?"

Erik bit his lip. He sighed in sorrow and turned to Meg. He began.

"Christine was, well, I appreciated her as a pupil. She had a past with Raoul, the viscount, and I knew I would never keep up with their relationship. But when her father died, I met her, and she called me her 'Angel of Music'. I became her teacher, and yet it seemed I grew close to her. Yes, to her I was some Angel of Music, but to the Opera house, I was a devil. I let her go with the viscount. I knew it was the right thing to do, but what would I feel? Did she even think of me?"

That line struck Meg and so she started singing.

"Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned.

Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind.

Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do,

There will never be a day when I won't think of you…."

Her voice echoed silently though the catacombs. That brought back painful experiences for Erik. He imagined Christine ten years ago, her angelic voice radiating through the catacombs.

Meg could see that he was in pain. "Monsieur, that song speaks of a promise. The song tells you that she does love you and she thinks of you. She promised you."

"Yes, she doesn't love me," Erik said sadly. "She chose the viscount over a devil. It seems fair enough."

Meg stayed silent. They kept walking until they reached a small stream. Erik was the one rowing as Meg sat silently in the front, holding Erik's torch so he could see the path. They came to a metal gate. Erik had to hop off the boat so he could pull the lever that lifted it. Meg started rowing to shore as Erik walked towards it.

The lair of the Opera Ghost looked exactly like it did ten years ago. There were candles everywhere and red curtains were hung on the wall. An organ stood in the elevated part and a red velvet couch stood on the far left. A diorama depicting the play of _Don Juan Triumphant _sat on a small mahogany table beside that. Erik was the first one on shore. He picked up a white mask sitting on the chair and attached it to his face.

"Meg," he said sternly. "Get off the boat."

Meg did as instructed and stepped on shore. She wandered in amazement around his lair. "Monsieur, it's still night time. Aren't you going to sleep?"

Erik walked over to his organ and lifted the lid. "No. Sleep in my room. I'll be fine."

Meg started to walk to the eagle-shaped bed. "What will you do?"

"I'll stay here preparing for your mother's prison break and composing music. I'll be fine."

Meg nodded and slept on the bed. Soon, Erik heard her dozing off.

He started to play organ music and started composing. It was the best time for him to compose because he actually felt sadness and sorrow and put that on a piano staff. His music sounded beautiful and yet at the same time, full of agony. He though about Christine again. He didn't know where Christine was, but his heart ached for her deeply. He wondered about Meg's words: that Christine was actually thinking of him. He was always thought that Christine didn't love him, but what if Meg was right? What if Christine really _missed_ him? He wasn't sure. He had his home back, his music back. But there was an empty place in his heart that beat for Christine, and without it, he couldn't live.


	4. Chapter 4: Prison Break

**Chapter 4: Prison Break**

**See? I told you I'd be posting once a week. Anyway, I really hate this chapter. It sounds very vague, which I hate to do to my stories. And also because I've read my past reviews saying it's pretty much vague, so I'll be expecting insults. So I'd like to apologize to all of you in advance. Also, my computer broke down a few days ago and it deleted Chapters 2 and 3. So I had to re-post them. Sorry, well, again. Oh, and, I know I have the grammar of a 4-year-old, so don't hesitate to correct me in your reviews! I love reviews.  
**

**Disclaimer: I own a pet goldfish, but I don't own POTO.**

**Chapter 4: Prison Break**

Meg woke up to the sound of loud organ music.

She got up from the bed to see Erik on the organ, dressed in a black suit, and he was wearing both the mask and his wig.

He turned to see Meg. "Oh, I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, no…" Meg said rubbing her head. She walked over to the organ looked at the piece Erik was composing. She picked it off the piano stand. "What's this?"

Erik snatched the papers from her hand. "Nothing," he said ashamed. "That's nothing."

Meg smiled slyly. "Composing again, I see."

Erik shrugged. He stood up, picked up his black cape and his scabbard and put them on him. "So, aren't you getting ready?"

"Ready for what?"

He went to the desk and picked up a rope tied into a Punjab lasso. He picked up sleek black gloves and slid his hands into them. "To your mother's prison break of course!"

"But it can wait, Monsieur. Really, it can."

"Meg, I let condemned your mother to prison even if it was entirely my fault. I know the time of the Switching of the Guards, and it is close. We only have one chance at this and I have to make amends as soon as possible. I have to undo my mistakes."

Erik stepped into the gondola and tossed Meg a small dagger. "Keep it," the Ghost said. "I found it in the catacombs. Use it wisely."

Meg grabbed a black ribbon from Erik's desk and used it to tie her honey-blond hair into a ponytail. After that she hopped on the boat and Erik rowed it to the surface.

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When they reached the entrance, it was already night. They both walked to the prison of Paris. It was a large grey concrete building with barred windows and a large wooden door in front of it. Erik killed the two guards at the entrance with one swipe of his sword.

Both of them stormed into the prison. It was a building with hundreds of floors, each with at least eight cells on each floor. Erik killed the guards one by one, either by choking them with his rope or by stabbing them with his sword. Even if Erik was winning this, but he wasn't able to find Mme. Giry in the prison. He was getting nervous. They might have tortured her for information…or worse. He stormed into each room, searching (and also killing). To his relief, he finally found her inside the interrogation booth.

It was a small room without any windows and a hard concrete floor. Mme. Giry was strapped to a wooden chair in the middle of the room. The chief of the guards was there, and he smiled slyly at Erik.

"Ah, the Opera Ghost," he said. "I've always wanted to put you into one of my cells." He unsheathed his sword and started to fight.

Meanwhile, Meg evaded the fight and was trying to cut the ropes binding Mme. Giry to her chair. She was able to free her mother and they hugged at her success. Also, at the same time, Erik was losing this battle. The chief was able to pry Erik's sword out of his hands and pointed his sword at his chest. He was about to stab when something hit his head and made him unconscious. He fell to the ground with a thud.

It was Mme. Giry. She hit the chief with her chair and then helped Erik up.

She smiled. "That's the second time I saved your life."

Erik noticed a piece of paper sticking out of the chief's pocket. It looked like some kind of front-page headline. He fished it out and put it into his pocket.

Erik and Meg laughed as the trio escaped from the prison.

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They were all back in Erik's subterranean lair. Meg was asleep and Mme. Giry was reading Erik's notes. Erik suddenly remembered the paper that he got from the police officer. He sat down on a piano chair, took it from his pocket and read it.

CHRISTINE COMES BACK TO PARIS

The beautiful soprano Christine de Chagny comes back to Paris after staying in Manhattan, New York, for ten years. According to her she said, "It's really exciting to come back to Paris. I love that place for a very special reason."

A voice from behind him made him jump. "What's in your hand, Erik?"

Erik stuffed the paper in his pocket and whirled around to see Mme. Giry with that skeptical look on her face.

"I repeat," she said. "What's in your hand, Erik?"

Erik stood, not moving, until Mme. Giry held out a hand. Erik finally brought out the crumpled piece of newspaper.

Mme. Giry opened it and read the first few sentences. Afterwards, she held it in front of Erik's face. "What is this? Where did you get it?"

Erik sighed in exasperation. "I found it at the prison. It's basically a newspaper about Christine. Why is that so wrong?"

"I know that you're planning on meeting her somehow, Erik. That's very risky and I'm afraid to say you can't."

Erik jolted up with surprise at the sentence. "What? Why? Mme. Giry, you know I love her and it's been ten years since I last saw her! You can separate her from me again! Damn you!"

Mme. Giry rolled her eyes at his expected behavior. "Erik, did you forget Christine is married to a viscount? He could kill you!"

Erik stopped at her sentence. "That is true, but…your daughter said that the song 'Think of me' wasn't simply a song, but a promise. A promise Christine said to me; to think of me, even if we're miles away. It's a proof of her love towards me. But I don't know if she loves me or not. And I don't care if the viscount kills me. I want to know if she loves me back."

Mme. Giry put a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, I know you love her, but what's more important your life or your love?"

With that sentence in mind, Mme. Giry left to go to her bedroom and also left a pondering Opera Ghost.


	5. Chapter 5: Stories, Sillouhettes, etc

**Chapter 5: Stories, Silhouettes, and her Son**

**I love this chapter. If you were waiting for Erik and Christine to meet in the story, this will quench your thirst. Oh, and yes, I'm making a LM fanfic, but I'm not posting it yet. I'll just wait.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone...we all wish we could, right?**

**Chapter 5: Stories, Silhouettes and her Son**

"Mother! Mother, when will we be there yet?" the voice of Hugo de Chagny screamed, excited.

"Relax, Hugo, dear," Christine said calmly.

The coach rumbled through the night on the streets of Paris. At night, Paris was a sleepy city; the lampposts positioned all over the street lit the night dimly. People were going into their homes which lined every pavement and road. The night sky, glittered by bright twinkling stars, was illuminated by a cloudy full moon.

The de Chagny family sat sleepily in the coach. Technically, over the past ten years in Manhattan, Christine gave birth to two children.

There was Hugo de Chagny, who was ten years old. He had dark brown hair, just like his mother, and a very passionate love for the arts. He was very relentless when it comes to music, for he was a perfectionist. He loved his mother more than his father, for Hugo had a very special connection with her. Hugo had a younger sister, Cecilia de Chagny, who was seven. She was much more like her father than her mother, even because of her honey blond hair. She interested herself in politics and factual things rather than her brother. Because of this, they would often bicker like some old married couple.

The coach halted in front of a large building; possibly a hotel. It had large glass windows and a magnificent wooden door. Inside, the windows were lit and police guards were positioned everywhere. In front of the building stood a marble fountain with lanterns hanging on it in an equal manner. In short, it had perfect renaissance architecture.

Hugo, more excited than ever, opened the coach door and stepped outside. "Ah, Paris is beautiful, isn't it, Mother?"

Christine stepped out and stood beside her son. "It is, my dear Hugo. I love this place for a very special reason. "

"And what is that, Mother?"

Christine blushed and then stayed quiet, which made Hugo laugh. "Mother, I can keep a secret."

A laugh from behind them startled the conversation. It was Raoul and holding his hand, his daughter, Cecilia. "Hugo is an enthusiastic child, isn't he?"He said. "Take him for a stroll around Paris while I check-in into the hotel." After that, Raoul and Cecilia walked into the white building.

Hugo scanned the streets of Paris until his eyes came to rest on a large building which was dingy grey and burnt to the core. It looked like it hadn't been used in a long time. It was surrounded by shattered glass and charred wooden debris.

"Mother," Hugo said pointing to the building. "What is that?"

Christine smiled at his question as she explained. "That's the Opera Populaire. That's where I used to sing, and…" Christine started to blush, "and that's where I met my Angel of Music…"

The name struck Hugo. "Angel of Music?"

Christine knelt and put her hands on Hugo's shoulders. "When my father died, he promised me that he would send an Angel of Music to train my voice. I have been visited by him, and his voice was simply angelic. He taught me to sing like he did. If I could, I could bequeath him to you."

Hugo was very excited. An Angel of Music? His mother's teacher? Surely since his mother's voice was heavenly, her teacher's voice would be truly magnificent. He wanted to hear the Angel. He wanted to.

Unable to fight his lust, Hugo started to run to the Opera house to find him. "I want to see the Angel of Music!" he screamed as he ran.

Christine ran after the boy, but he was quick. He was able to open the doors with ease and dodge his way through the wooden debris. Hugo finally found himself in Christine's dressing room. He put piles of wood on the door so his mother wouldn't pursue him. Then he noticed the mirror. Hugo felt an urge to go through it, as if someone was tempting him to do so.

Hugo though he was hallucinating, but he was able to heard a voice beckoning him to go through the mirror. It was singing: "I am your Angel of Music, come to me, Angel of Music…" repeatedly. Until, finally, Hugo was able to go through the mirror.

Three hits on the door. "Open this door, Hugo!" Christine screamed.

But Hugo couldn't hear her anymore. He was in a long black hallway; the catacombs of the Opera. Lit torches hung from the wall casting eerie shadows on the concrete floor. Then, he saw a silhouette of a figure of a man, walking through the underground maze. Hugo, in mystery and bewilderment, followed the shadow.

Meanwhile, Christine was able to break through the door. She looked around the dusty old room. She glanced at the mirror and as she walked towards it, memories came back to her. She remembered her Angel abducting her, dragging her into the catacombs…

Christine pushed through the glass of the mirror until she was in the dark hallway of the maze. She grabbed at torch on the wall and went down into the darkness.

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Unbeknownst to both Hugo and Christine, the silhouette was, in fact, Erik. He was already on the creek, rowing a gondola full of parcels and boxes. When he reached his lair, he started to unload the boat.

Hugo, who was wading through the icy waters of the stream, saw the Opera Ghost once he had gotten to the gate. Hugo screamed in surprise, which echoed through the entire tunnel. Hugo ran back, hoping his mother was still there, while Erik just sat there in total and utter confusion.

Christine wandered deeper into the catacombs and dipped herself into the cold water. It became darker and darker, until a sound came from the end of the tunnel. It was Hugo, screaming. He ran past his mother and got out of the stream. Christine saw the shock on his face and wandered to the edge of the tunnel wondering what would scare a brave boy like Hugo.

Christine came to the edge of the stream and found herself in her Angel's lair. It looked like it did ten years ago with its vintage appearance and lit candles everywhere. She suddenly stopped at the sight of Erik there, unloading his boat full of boxes.

"Angel?" she said to him, hoping that it would attract his attention. He turned his head and saw Christine there; imagine the shock on his face.

"Christine?" he asked.

And they stood there silent.


	6. Chapter 6: Confronting the Ghost

**Chapter 6: Confronting the Ghost**

**When I wrote this, I tried to not barf. I'm not used to writing sappy romance stories, but I'll do _anything _for POTO. Oh, and I've heard my internet connection won't be good for a few days, so expect a late next-chapter. But I'll try to speed up the internet. I also went ahead and posted Chapter 5 ahead of time and I'm posting this on the same day. Please review if you want to correct my grammar. Yes, I know it's short.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. Oh, right. I own Raoul and Christine's two awesome children! ;)**

**Chapter 6: Confronting the Ghost**

Christine couldn't believe it. She found her Angel again. It's been ten years since and she couldn't afford to lose him again.

She stepped out of the water. "Angel? Is that really you?"

Erik smiled sadly. "Madame de Chagny, my name is Erik, not Angel."

Christine's eyes widened at her new discovery. Erik? That was his name? The name of her Angel?

Erik strode over to the boat and grabbed two boxes then put them on the floor. Suddenly, he started to laugh, which confused Christine. "Ah," the ghost said. "Came back to the worthless freak. Nice choice."Erik sat down and slumped in a chair. "So what is your business here?"

Christine bit her lip. She couldn't tell the man whose heart she broke that she had children. It would make him desperate…or _worse_.

Instead, to drive him off-topic, she asked the ghost another question. "Who lives with you here?"

Erik smiled deviously. "Meg and Antoinette Giry. Why do you ask?"

"No reason…" Christine blushed as Erik smiled again.

Erik stood up. "Who was that boy that came running into my lair?" Erik smiled again like some malicious animal. "Only someone who has heard the voice of the Angel of Music can enter through the looking-glass…"

Christine decided to confess it to him anyway. "Alright, he was my son. His name is Hugo. I told him that I knew you and he wanted to see you because, I promised him that I would bequeath you to him."

Instead on thundering on and screaming at Christine, Erik blinked in confusion. "So he wanted to hear me. He was eager to become my pupil."

Christine nodded nervously.

Erik laughed again. "He's like you when you were younger. So persistent to learn. He truly is your son."

Christine smiled then blushed. "Yes, and…it's been ten years since I saw you and…" she blushed a deeper shade of red, "I missed you, Erik."

Erik stopped at the sentence. What did she say? She missed him? But how? He was such a cold-hearted monster! But did she say the truth? Did she really miss him? Did she really love him?

Erik smiled at the comment. "I presume you still have a relationship with the viscount?"

Christine coughed to not respond, but Erik was smart enough to figure out what she was doing.

"Yes, I know you married him…" Erik said quite crestfallen, "and you also have a daughter named Cecilia."

Christine blinked. How did he know everything?

To her surprise, Erik gestured for her to leave. "Go back to your husband. He might get suspicions."

Christine bowed. "Thank you, Erik." After that, she left.

Erik collapsed in a chair, tired. Christine came back to him! And she also had a son who wanted to become his pupil! What a family they had!

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A while later, Meg and Mme. Giry came to Erik's lair. Mme. Giry was rowing the gondola. Meg was holding a basket of fruit and in Mme. Giry's hand, a telegram.

They got on shore and Erik stood up as the duo walked to the table. They both sat down as Mme. Giry slid the telegram towards Erik.

He picked it up. "What is this?"

"Read it," Mme. Giry urged.

Erik opened the envelope and read.

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This was what the telegram said:

"TO MONSIEUR LE CHIEF,

"The trap failed. Our strategy was to kidnap Mme. Giry, therefore bringing the Opera Ghost to the prison, then, finally, executing him. That failed, for he left the prison with Mme. Giry, successful.

"We need another lure. Something the ghost couldn't resist. Something he longs for…"

Erik put down the telegram in anger. "What on earth is this?"

Mme. Giry grabbed the telegram from his hand. "It's something Meg and I received…by accident."

Erik stood perplexed. "'By accident'?"

Mme. Giry smiled nervously.

"I understand this completely," Erik said standing up. "The police knew you were going to bring me back to the Opera Populaire, and so they captured you for me to rescue as a lure. Then, of course, they expect me to come to the rescue and save you, but then they have set a trap. As you always notice, whoever they use as bait is guarded by the chief. He will execute me, but their stupid attempts failed, one by one."

Mme. Giry smiled. "You're smart enough to figure that out, but…" Mme. Giry's smile melted, "but what is precious to you, Erik? Because whatever it is, police guards now are after it."

Erik's expression turned grim. "No…not her…"

He had to warn her. He had to go. He grabbed his cape from the desk then ran to the gondola.

Mme. Giry stood up in alarm. "Erik, what are you doing?"

He clasped his cape around his neck. "I have to warn my Christine. She's in danger!"

Mme. Giry clasped his arm. "Are you mad? If Raoul sees you, he'll kill you on the spot!"

Erik paused. What she said was true, but Christine would be captured – or worse. Raoul also hated Erik so much, that their rivalry burns like hell. He and to find a way to contact her, or she would die.

Erik loosened his grip from Mme. Giry and walked to his desk. He grabbed a card and his quill and wrote a letter –_ two_ letters, actually.

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The next morning, Nadir received a note. It was inside a dusty-white envelope with black borders and a red skull emblem.

_Of course, _Nadir though. _Erik. It's always Erik._

He opened the envelope and read the cursive script writing.

"My dear friend Nadir,

"Over the past few days, I reside in my underground lair together with Antoinette and Meg Giry. Also, Christine had come (by accident) to my lair and discussed with me about her son Hugo de Chagny. How persistent he was about music!I adored his passion.

"However, I need your assistance. Police have tried their best to lure me into prison and execute me, but I was able to avoid them…until now. They plan on kidnapping Christine to finally condemn me to jail. Their strategy is to kidnap someone special to me, lure me into their prison and kill me.

"Yes, they have underestimated me. Yes, they have been playing with fire. Yes, they cheat someone as malicious as the devil. But they have taken my love hostage, and I need your help.

"Your obedient and humble friend,

"O.G."

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Christine also received a note. She knew it was her Angel who sent her this, so it must be urgent.

She opened the letter.

"My dear Christine,

"I hate to inform you about this, but I come as a bearer of a great misfortune.

"Police officers are after me as a fugitive and I try to evade their idiotic attempts to jail me, but now, they found my weakness. They plan to find it and keep it in the prison as a lure for me. Then, when I fall for their trap, they will end it, once and for all - they will execute me.

"Now, my weakness is you, dear Christine, and, as I said before, they plan to abduct you; keep you as hostage. To avoid all this, prevent our abduction. But even if you try and fail, I have come up with plans to free you _and _avoid my execution. If _that _fails, before I die, know that I love you…

"…though it is meaningless to say that on parchment rather than face-to-face.

"Your Angel of Music,

"O.G."


	7. Chapter 7:The Midnight Garden

**Chapter 7: The Midnight Garden **

**I really hate writing sappy romance stories and novel, and this chapter emphasizes one of them. But then, I love POTO, and I'd do anything for it. Next chapter coming out pretty soon, though. I have nothing else to say...Well, also, I posted this in another computer because I have no internet, as you may recall. Expect the next few chapters to be late...but if the internet's back, then I'll post again at regular timing! :)  
**

**Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Anything. **

**Chapter 7: The Midnight Garden ****(Erik's P.O.V.)**

I was at my organ, composing a song late at night, when I heard the sound of feet coming at my chamber.

"Erik!" a voice called out. Its echoes that rang through the catacombs attracted my attention.

I spun around to see my good friend Nadir. I stepped down from the organ and towards my friend. "Ah, Nadir," I said. "How may I help you?"

"I need you to talk to Christine." The Persian replied to me. "We need her to be informed about the danger she's in."

I blushed at the sound of her name. "Christine?"

Nadir raised an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"Nothing; I already sent her a note so she would be informed."

"Well, that Christine needs everything to be clarified for her. She needs to understand absolutely _everything_."

We walked to a corner of my lair. There, hung a large velvet red curtain that wasn't drawn. Nadir brushed the curtains aside to reveal a large mirror. I pushed it as if it was a doorway and it emptied out into a dark hallway—another catacomb.

"I remember this," I said, my voice echoing though the darkness. "This is a passageway to a garden outside a hotel."

Nadir strode to my desk and grabbed my black cape, tossed it at me, and I grabbed it in midair. I clasped it around my neck.

The Persian gestured for me to enter the tunnel. "Christine is at the garden, so I've heard. I need you to clarify everything for her."

I nodded and walked into the darkness as the mirror closed behind me.

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The passageway led to a ladder and I climbed it. There was a wooden lid on the top of the ladder, pushed it, and stepped out into the garden.

I found myself in a large garden full of lush green grass and a large oak tree in the middle. Rosebushes lined the garden like a border. Marble benches lined the magnificent oak tree and to my amazement, I found Christine and her son Hugo sitting on one of them.

"_Christine, Christine…_" I sang, hoping I would attract her attention. To my surprise, I _did_ catch her attention. She noticed me, and, in haste, told her son to rush back to the hotel. The son, obedient, ran to the building.

I walked towards the bench Christine was sitting on and I sat beside her. "Did you receive my note?" I asked her.

"Yes," Christine replied. "Although, I don't understand."

I sighed in exasperation. Nadir was correct; this girl needed many things to be clarified for her. "What is not to understand?"

Christine shrugged. "I don't know; everything?"

I rolled my eyes at Christine. This girl was quite clueless. "So, I'm a wanted criminal over France and Europe. I'm now known as a fugitive because I evade police attempts to catch me. Their current strategy is to find a lure, bring it to the prison, and expect me to come and rescue it. But it's a trap, and they will execute me there. They tried Mme. Giry as a lure, but were unsuccessful for I was able to rescue her. But now, they found a lure that I couldn't refuse to rescue, that's you, Christine."

Judging by the look on her face, Christine was resisting the urge to laugh. "But, Angel, Raoul is watchful over me. Police cannot simply kidnap the wife of a viscount."

Christine's smile crumpled. I sighed in depression. "Christine, dear, Raoul hates me and I hate him that it burns like the fires of hell. He would do anything to kill me, even if he has to give you up. So it is important that the viscount doesn't know of this."

"Yes, but…" Christine mumbled.

I stood up for I had to pace to lessen my nervousness. "Christine, you don't understand. You're in danger; moreover, my heart is in danger.

Christine blushed at my statement. "But why?"

My heart grew heavy with every word I said. "Christine, police were able to trick me with a choice. Either you die or I live with the fact that you're gone forever, or I die and you will be set free from any of these nightmares. They will all be nothing but a blur in the past."

Christine stood up. "Angel, I don't understand. Where are you going with this?"

I grew more frustrated and depressed. "One of us has been destined to die, Christine! Also, both of us have chosen who suffer the damnable punishment: me!"

My shouts made Christine step back and her eyes started to swell with tears. "Angel, I didn't condemn you do death. When did I?"

Christine really didn't understand the pain I was going through. I smiled sadly. "Ten years ago, Christine. Ten years since you left me to rot. It drove me to despair, to pain, to total desolation. To add to the fact, I won't stand it when you're captured and then killed right in front of me. It would drive me mad for love and vengeance, for blood lust. I would kill hundreds of innocents for my love for you. Whereas, if I die, since…" here, I felt tears fall from my eyes, "since you don't love me as much as I do to you, it won't pain you as much."

Christine started to sob – something that I didn't expect from her. "I can't let you go, Angel."

I ignored her plea and bowed like a gentleman as if I wasn't going to die. "Goodbye, Christine de Chagny." I said as I started to walk to the ladder.

Suddenly, Christine grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me so close to her face that I could feel her warm breath on my cheeks.

"Angel," Christine said sadly. "Don't think that I don't love you."

I forced a smile. "And you only choose to say that tonight before I die. Why is that?"

It seemed that Christine came to a realization. She sighed happily and locked her eyes in mine. It was hard to escape her gaze. She held the back of my neck with her right hand.

"Because…" Christine said smiling behind tears. "Because I love you, Angel."

I didn't know what happened next. All I could remember was Christine's lips on mine. For a moment, nothing seemed to matter to both of us except for the fact that we were in each others arms.

When I pulled back, I smiled at Christine, but it slowly faded. "But Christine, even if that is the truth, I still need to meet my fate."

Christine blinked in confusion. "What? Why?"

"You have children and a husband, Christine, and they'd be devastated without you."

"True, but you're my Angel. _I'd _be devastated without you."

"Yes, but I have to face the consequences of my actions. I have to receive my punishment for everything I've done. I can't let someone else die for my sake."

I let go of Christine's hand and stepped back. "Christine, I love you, but that's the last time I'll ever say it to you."

Christine started to sob. I smiled sadly and then kissed her forehead. "Goodbye, Christine."

I walked to the secret passage and disappeared into the darkness.


	8. Chapter 8: The Last threat

**Chapter 10: The Last Threat**

**Oohhh! The suspense is building up! A phase of Raoul's plan has been put into action. Christine was taken/kidnapped by the guards and Erik is totally aware of it? Will he walk into Raoul's trap and face the consequences of Christine's death? Or is he aware of this dangerous game and decides to play by the rules? *Gasp!* **

**I had a very hard time writing this since it's chock-full of details. I'm trying to write two stories at once, there's "Once Again", and it's the one full of details, so sorry about my grammar. Don't hesitate to correct my grammar in your reviews. I love reviews. Internet was really bad, so I'm really sorry for posting late.  
**

**Disclaimer: Oh, I'm sorry. Am I supposed to say something? **

**Chapter 10: The Last Threat (Erik's P.O.V.)**

Nadir and I went up to the door of the Opera House and stared at the silent streets of Paris. On the stony street, we saw two horses. One was a beautiful brown and another was a sleek black.

I strode over to the back horse and ran my fingers over its silky black coat. "César…" I muttered.

"We ride the horses to where the prison is held," I said mounting César. "They're holding her hostage at the Paris prison. Then I'll kill all the guards and save Christine. It's perfect!"

Nadir walked over to the brown horse and mounted it. "But be careful, Erik. You have to ask yourself who is the one truly innocent in this situation."

I nodded. I was about to shake the reigns of César, when I noticed two running screaming children that came to me. I recognized them as both Hugo and Cecilia de Chagny. I gasped silently at their shabby appearances.

Hugo's little viscount suit was tattered and crumpled. He had blood trailing from a wound on his forehead and a small scar underneath his right eye. Hugo's dark brown hair was messy and tangled. You could see that he was quite nervous despite his calm personality. Cecilia's eyes were full of fear and anxiousness. Her honey-blond hair was messy and tangled like her brother's. Her bright blue sun dress was tattered, crumpled and torn. There were long bloody wounds on her arm and leg.

I stepped down from César so I could talk to them. I knelt so I could see them eye-to-eye. "What's wrong? What's the problem?"

"They have Mother!" Cecilia screamed, tears streaming down her face. "They captured her!"

I stood up and pet César. "I expected that. It's alright. I'm going to rescue her. She's in the prison because they brought-"

"No," Hugo interrupted. "They changed their plans."

I turned so I could face the children. "What do you mean?"

"They carried her off to the river," Cecilia sobbed, wiping tears off her face. "They'll drown her. They're waiting for you."

I stopped at her sentence. "What? What do you mean?"

"They're about to bargain with you." Hugo said gloomily. "They'll make a deal. Either you face the consequences of death and Mother will live, or you will be set free and Mother will die. They only want to let you go to an empty prison to stall you and to give you a false belief that Mother is practically dead. They wanted you scared."

I carried Hugo and gave him to Nadir. He, in turn, put Hugo on his horse. I carried Cecilia and put her on César's saddle. I smiled at the children. "My name is Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, and I'm not supposed to fear anything, God damn it!"

I mounted César and we rode to the outskirts of Paris to the cliffs of the Seine River.

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When we got to the river, I saw a dreadful sight.

You see, we were on top of a cliff whose edge plummeted down into the roaring river. There were dozens of police guards that were standing with us on the cliff. One of them had a rifle pointed at César. One of them, the one who was closest to the edge of the cliff, was holding a long chain attached to the anvil; the other end was tied to the ankle of Christine whose hands were bound in rope and her mouth was muffled by a white kerchief. Just the sight of her like that makes me feel like I wanted to kill all of those guards.

I gave my rifle to Cecilia and I stepped down from my horse. From the corner of my eye, I saw Christine trying to struggle out of her trap, guards brought out their guns and pointed them at me. In fear that I might die, I put my hands up. A signal from one of the guards drew the guns down and a man stepped forward to face me. I remembered his face; it was the chief of the guards.

"So," he said a slight smug curdled on his face. "Opera Ghost. You have been charged of asking a large amount of currency from an important official, an attempted murderer on a viscount, two assassinations and total destruction of government property. I have a deal for you."

I smiled. "I'm not hearing your deal until you and your men throw your rifles into the river."

The chief stood stupefied and retorted at my statement. "Are you mad? Why in the world will we do that?"

"As I said, I'm not hearing your proposition until you do so. I know you need me alive. You need to kill me through torture, not quick pain. You can't kill me right away. You want to murder me slowly." I grinned maliciously, "aren't I right, monsieur?"

The chief was about to retort again but I drew my sword and held the blade against my neck. The guards stood back at my action. The chief was running out of patience and he was terrible frustrated so he grabbed his rifle and let it drop into the river. The guards followed his stupid deed.

The chief then pushed Christine over the cliff. I ran to the edge in order to grab her, but I saw another scary sight. She was dangling over the Seine River (actually so close, the tips of her brown tress was touching the water!), her ankle tied to the anvil on land. She was hanging upside down, and all I heard from her was muffled screams. I stood there on the edge and yelled in fright. I looked back at the chief whose foot was on the anvil and the anvil was so close to the edge. If he would push the anvil off, Christine would drown then…..die.

"Now," he said. "I'll tell you my proposition. You come with us, be tortured, like you said, and your Christine will survive and be set free, or your Christine will die and you will be killed quickly out of our mercy."

I knew that they trapped me. I would lose either way. This brought me back ten years ago, when Christine was forced to marry me. I set her with a similar choice: I would kill he lover and she will be free, or she'll marry me and her little Raoul will live. I suddenly felt the pain that she felt, the same fear that coursed through her. I had to get out of the choice. What should I do? Then an idea burst in my mind. Hugo and Cecilia had my rifles, my guns. The guards were stupid enough to drop their weapons into the river. All I had to hope is if Christine's children knew how to shoot a rifle. I took a deep breath and yelled as loud as I can to the children.

"Hugo! Cecilia! NOW!"

From behind me, two bullets went flying above my head and burrowing into the body of the chief. He dropped to the ground, dead. I stood amazed. I was a young adult when I tied my first Punjab lasso and Christine's ten-year-old and seven-year-old knew how to shoot rifles like professionals!

I turned at the two kids, who were mounted on the horses, smiling. They were reloading their guns. "How did you learn to do that?" I screamed to them.

"Father taught us how!" Cecilia's scream reply came back. "Go save Mother! We'll handle the guards!" Cecilia shot again and it killed poor guards whose backs were turned on them.

I ran past the bullet shots and went to the anvil. I grabbed the chain with one hand and slid down. I was wearing gloves, but the metal that scraped against my skin burned like fire. When I got to Christine, I removed the kerchief covering her mouth, cut the ropes binding her hands and untied the chain on her ankle. She was afraid she might fall, so she clutched me tightly. I climbed the chain again until I reached the surface. I looked around. Dead bodies of police were everywhere and Hugo and Cecilia were standing near the horses, smiling at their success. Nadir was checking polices' pockets for dangerous items. At the sight of their mother, Hugo and Cecilia ran to their mother and hugged her tightly. Then she let them run around the grassland, but they stood there watching us, as if they were expecting me to do something. Hugo made a gesture with his hand saying "go on".

I looked at Christine, who looked awfully exhausted, but radiant with joy. She was about to kiss me, but she started coughing as if there was a bowling ball lodged into her throat. She fell; I knelt and caught her. There was a sudden change in her appearance. She closed her eyes as if she was in pain. Her face was deadly pale; her breath was heard in painful wheezes. Hugo and Cecilia rushed to my side with worried faces.

"Monsieur, what happened to her?" Hugo screamed.

"Erik," Nadir said at my shoulder holding a small bottle of poison and a long syringe. "I found this in the chief's pocket."

Tears started to fall from my eyes. "No….no…."

Christine's eyes opened slightly. She whispered when she spoke, and it sounded hoarse, full of sorrow, and yet somehow compassionate. "Angel? Angel, is that you?"

I brushed a few brown tress locks that were covering her beautiful face. "Yes, yes it's me, Christine."

"Angel, I'm going away now…and this time, I'm not coming back…"

I stayed silent for I was sobbing in deep grief. I glanced to her children and I saw that they were sobbing as well. Poor little Cecilia was burrowing her face into Hugo's shirt.

To my surprise, Christine smiled weakly. "Angel, it's alright. I'm going to see my father again. I always wanted to meet him again to tell him all of my stories here. Most importantly, I'll tell him that I met the Angel of Music. I'll tell him I fell in love with him…"

I held her hand and bowed my head as tears fell from my eyes. "Christine, I can't let you leave me again. I can go with you…"

Christine shook her head slightly. "No. I can't let you die. I have to fulfill my promise to Hugo. I bequeath my Angel of Music to Hugo and Cecilia de Chagny."

I couldn't say anything anymore, because my words were choked in sorrow. Christine weakly touched my left cheek and wiped the tears off my face. Her hands were cold to the touch, and yet her smile seemed so warm.

"I have to tell you everything, Angel. All these ten years, I regret. Every passing day, I longed for you. I wanted to hear the voice of my Angel again. When I came here, word reached my ears that you were to be condemned to death. I was overcome by great misery. I surrendered myself to the guards and they told me of their dangerous strategy. Fearing you would die, I told the chief to inject me with venom. He thought of it as a far-fetched idea, but I assured him that it would torture you mentally. Idiotically, they all died anyway, but there is nothing you could do to stop me from dying. I told him if I was to die, your life would be spared."

I couldn't bear the agony. "But why?"

Christine smiled again. "Because I knew all this time that Raoul was the wrong one to marry. I knew that I could have spent my time with you. I was too frightened to accept the fact that I love you."

She took a deep breath and started to sing. _"Say you'll share with me one love one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you…_"

I started singing as well. _"Say you'll share with me each night, each morning…_"

"Angel," she whispered to me. "I love you…"

She leaned forward and kissed me. And it was the last ever received from her. When she pulled back, she took a deep breath…and it was her last.

I screamed in agony, tears streaming down my face. I cried and sobbed like I never did before. Suddenly, I felt a small hand on my shoulder. I turned my head to see the young viscount and his sister.

"Monsieur," Hugo said. "I understand that she was really special. Cremate her body and keep her ashes. They're yours to keep."

I nodded my head and wiped the tears off my face.


	9. Chapter 9: Reaching Conclusions

**Chapter 11: Reaching Conclusions**

**Oh, poor Erik! He got his chance to be with Christine only to lose her again. Sad. Anyway, if you're asking questions, PM me because this is the last chapter of my first "phanfic"**_** Innocence**_**. If you're wondering why the title is called **_**Innocence, **_**you really have to ask yourself who really is the innocent (or guilty) one here. Can you guess? I can't. Oh, and like I said before, I'm making a Les Misérables fanfic. Hope you enjoy. And I love reviews. This is short since it clarifies everything, mind you. Oh, and sorry for the wrong number placement. I was in a hurry because I only had like five seconds of internet, so REALLY SORRY :(.  
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**Yes, I know I have 4-year-old grammar, so I'm paying special attention to my grammar and English classes now, all for the sake of my fanfic. You'll see my progress in my next few chapters of "Once Again". **

**Disclaimer: Whoever owns POTO is the luckiest man who walks this earth. Can't you agree?  
**

**Chapter 11: Reaching Conclusions**

I watched the coffin of Christine being devoured by blazing fire. I had Hugo and Cecilia under my arms hugging me as Nadir said a prayer over the inferno. I looked at little Hugo and Cecilia, tear marks on their cheeks and yet they watched the fire with a look of relentlessness on their faces. The pink and yellow sunset sky turned into a dark blue blanket covered with stars and a cloudy crescent moon.

I finally knew of polices' real strategy. They would kidnap Christine then I would come falling for the lure. Then, they would strike a bargain with me. Either I came with them and die slowly by torture and Christine would be free, or they would let me go and Christine would die. If I would choose to let Christine die, I would be thrown into despair and the authorities would expect me to commit suicide, saving them the trouble to execute me. But now, Christine allowed herself to embrace death with the knowledge in me that she loved someone as cruel as the devil. Because of this, I wouldn't bother killing myself, her love encouraged me to move on in life, strive for the best. Her soul remained within the voices of her two children, and I knew I had to teach them to put their voices amongst the choirs of angels.

"Monsieur," the voice of Hugo interrupted my thoughts. "Mother said you would teach us. Will you?"

I ruffled the boy's brown hair then I smiled. "Of course I will."

Cecilia stared at the fire, mesmerized by its colors and movement. "Monsieur, I have to tell you something…"

"What is it, Cecilia?"

Her eyes stayed glued to the fire. "I'll have you know that Mother said she loved Paris for a very special reason. I think the reason is you."

I smiled at what Cecilia said. "Perhaps,"

I gazed at the girl, smiling yet wiping her tears on my cape. "Monsieur, I've been meaning to ask you something," she pointed at the right side of my face, "whatever is behind that mask?"

I knelt so I could see the children face-to-face. They stood in front of me, holding hands. I placed my right hand on the white mask, my hands trembling over the cold porcelain. "Please promise me you won't run away, or scream, or anything for that matter." I stuttered nervously. They nodded excited—which I didn't expect from anyone who wanted to see my face. Christine was anxious to see my face once and she ended up screaming in horror, of course. I lifted the mask to reveal my hideous deformity. The children did nothing…but they smiled.

I became immediately perplexed at their joyful expressions. I was a hideous monster who deserves to rot in hell? What did they do? They smiled at me, even laughed! "What? Why aren't you afraid? Why aren't you running away, screaming? You should be afraid."

Hugo and Cecilia laughed harder at my anger. "Monsieur," Hugo said chuckling. "We're not afraid. Why do you think so?"

I blinked. Did I hear that clearly? "What did you say? Why aren't you afraid of me? This is what I look like, both inside and out. Your mother hated me for this and my monstrosity on the inside. It is _impossible _for her to love me. And here you are, telling me that you're not afraid of the damnable monster the Phantom of the Opera?"

The children rushed to my side and hugged me. "Monsieur," Cecilia explained accurately. "My Mother used to tell me that beauty was focused on the inside, not outside. And the way you loved my mother, the way she talked to you about your determination and passion for music, the way she loved you back…that _is _true beauty. We don't mind what you look like on the outside. I think, because of you, that's where my mother got that motto."

I smiled at her advice. All she said was true…but Christine…I missed her. I stared at the fire, the smoke of Christine's body rising into the dark sky. My eyes stayed glued to the blazing coffin. "Yes but…" my smiled crumpled away, "I just want one last chance to be with my Christine again…"

The little viscount pats my shoulder. "Monsieur, Mother's soul resides in my sister and I. She is always with you now. She is always with you."

I hugged the children tight, "I'll make your mother proud…I promise…"

I stared at the fire as it vanished into the inky sky of the dark night. Christine was always with me now, she was in her children. I promised her that I would raise them into the clever beings they are, the way their passion for what she loved lived and moved within them. I loved her so, and it was time to move on. I loved her so…and I loved her to the end.


End file.
